Not-Love
by pinksnail
Summary: It is in the moment of Alice realising how hated Peter White truly is that she knows she will do anything to change that.


**Not-love**

— **It is in the moment of Alice realising how hated Peter White truly is that she knows she will do anything to change that.**

* * *

Peter White, the obsessive amoral rabbit who had somehow landed himself the job of Prime Minister, was the most infuriating roleholder Alice Liddell had ever had the misfortune of meeting. She hated him. She had good reason to. He had kidnapped her; out of the blue, on a lovely sunny Sunday afternoon spent with her sister, she was stolen away down the rabbit hole. He kissed her, forcefully, pressing his poisoned lips to her in a catalyst for the events to come. He was the one who tethered her to his wonderland.

Whenever Peter appeared death was sure to follow. Alice could not understand how someone – rabbit or man – could kill without a second thought. One moment a palace guard would be standing there and in the next the floor would be blood and all that would remain: a single shattered clock. He did this all in the name of 'love' — his not-love. A love he thought was a love, but really truly wasn't. It could only ever be a not-love; a love of an existence, but not a love of being, and she had only ever existed as a foreigner here.

So of course at seeing him kill, _for her_, she was horrified. _How could you,_ had been Alice's first reaction. But Peter didn't seem to understand her disgust as much as she didn't understand his brutality. Alice supposed many she had met in the Country of Hearts also took part in such carnage, but Peter was surely one of the worst.

She must hate him. It surely must be hate, for what else could it be.

But one day she began to wonder that just as Peter had his not-love, was it she who had a not-hate? What if it was only a hatred of his existence (what he stood for in this world), not a hatred of his being? She only began to wonder such unusual thoughts after seeing her reflection.

She had come to the Castle of Heart for tea with Vivaldi. Along the way, in the garden somewhere, Peter snatched Alice away – apparently with the intention of leading her to Vivaldi. Normally Alice met Vivaldi in their usual spot in the gardens. It would only be later that Alice would contemplate that she had let Peter lead her away, if only for a short while, on a wild goose chase for a Queen who was most likely waiting impatiently in the gardens (perhaps ordering the beheading of unwitting servants).

Peter escorted her down the lavish halls of the palace, all the while professing his love for the umpteenth time. It was as Alice began to berate Peter – for his mawkishness, for him turning into Ace and not having a clue to where he was taking her, or perhaps for him being a perverted rabbit who wanted to seclude her in his room – that she caught sight of herself in a mirror, a somewhat tarnished one compared to the rest of the decor, hanging slightly crooked on the wall. She stopped to gaze at herself. She saw that her expression wasn't half as disgruntled as she had envisioned it to be.

When Alice looked at the other roleholders in the Country of Hearts and saw the disgruntlement in their eyes when they saw Peter White, she had always assumed she appeared just the same. Yet, she didn't. The only thing that set Alice's expression apart from completely neutral was an insignificant furrow of the brow.

"Peter," she had said, oddly cordial (or maybe she had always been cordial to him without realising), "Can you come over here?"

He was more than happy to be of assistance. He came bounding over, latching himself onto Alice in a tight embrace. He had either misconstrued her request or was just taking the opportunity to be close to her, both were just as likely as the other. Alice pried away his hands and flattened them back to his sides, but never did Peter's exuberant grin fade. She positioned him to face the mirror directly, slightly to the right, while she took up the same arrangement, slightly to the left. Although his body faced the mirror she could see Peter taking sidelong glances at her in the reflection.

"Peter," She said his name again, "Can you say something to me?"

He blinked confusedly for a moment. Alice wasn't surprised that he was thrown by this. He often said things to Alice, mostly things about love, but she normally ran away or at the very least told him to shut up. She had never asked for him to talk before. "What would you like me to say, my dear Alice?"

"Tell me about your not-love."

"Not-love? What is a not-love?" Again, Peter was momentarily confused, but soon he had steeled himself, lifting his chin and proudly puffing out his chest. Perhaps he thought Alice was testing him but, in fact, Alice was testing herself. "I could not not-love you Alice. My love for you is true love."

She imagined that maybe she should scowl deeply, but she did not see it in the mirror. Her face did nothing of the sort. The mirror, source of all truth, reflected as the corners of her mouth quirked up into a small, almost unperceivable, smile. Now that was unexpected.

She turned away from the mirror with a harsh intake of breath. "Obviously you weren't planning on taking me to Vivaldi anytime soon. I'm leaving now."

So Alice didn't hate Peter then. It was a not-hate.

It was later in her wonderings that Alice now considered not only her (once hate) not-hate for Peter, but also the roleholders very much real hate for him (or as a minimum a strong distaste). In that mirror Alice had not only been watching for her reaction to Peter, but also for a comparison to the reactions of the others she saw daily. Peter was truly and utterly hated. At least, it seemed that way in contrast to Alice, because Alice was truly and utterly loved. Everyone loved Alice. Or, at the very least, they not-loved her.

Perhaps Alice was the only one to not-hate Peter. It was sad.

"Are you really inviting that rabbit here for tea?" Julius asked her as she bustled around, laying out crockery across the doily covered table in the far corner of the room.

"If it is going to disturb your work then I can always move this to my room." said Alice as she set down a plate of shortbread.

"No," Julius replied hastily, "It will not disturb my work. I only wonder why you choose to arrange tea with someone you so actively dislike."

"It is not a function of leisure. I intend to instil a few lessons in Peter."

"Teach Peter White?" Julius was shocked enough to stop work on the damaged clock in hand to stare at Alice in stunned disbelief.

She looked mildly offended. "Do you really lack such faith in me?"

"It is not my faith in you at hand here; it is my belief that Peter White has the same capacity to be taught a lesson as would a brick. He does not take kindly to advice of any kind. He is too obstinate to be taught."

"We'll see."

"Yes, I suppose we will."

Peter arrived half an hour early. It was a good thing Alice had been expecting as much.

She guided Peter into Julius' office, choosing to ignore the pointed scowl the clock repairer sent their way, and settled the beaming rabbit down in his seat (across from which she placed herself). Upon seeing Peter poised on the edge of his seat, appearing to be readying himself to leap across the table and ensnare Alice in a loving death-grip any moment now, she sighed, held up a hand before Peter could make his move, and said, "I have invited you to tea to listen to me, Peter. If you can't do that I'm afraid you'll have to leave."

"I always listen to you, my dear." Peter slid back in his seat with adoring eyes, clearly ready to soak up whatever words of wisdom Alice decided to impart. That was, until, Julius made 'humph' sound over his broken clocks (not quite derisive, but definitely disbelieving). Peter's look of adulation quickly turned to an icy glare aimed at Julius. The rabbit asked, with a venomous lilt to his voice, "Alice dear, why do we have company at our private tea party?"

"It just so happens this is the only room with a table suitable enough for serving tea and I certainly do not fancy balancing all these plates on my bedside table and dresser. Neither do I want to set up on the floor." Alice said, surprising herself with an oddly even tone and her subconscious reaching for the gun Peter had pointed at Julius from under the table. Peter gave a surprised jolt as her hand wrapped around his own and summoned no protest as she took his pistol and set it upon the table. "Besides, maybe even Julius will learn from this."

Again Julius let out a 'humph', but this one seemed rather amused.

"I have called you here to teach you Peter."

"Teach me?" He looked delighted at the idea. Never had Alice paid him such interest before. "Teach me what?"

"How to be more likeable." Alice informed him coolly between sips of her tea.

Peter's being slumped slightly, well aware that meant Alice was not so interested in becoming Peter's private schoolmaster rather than taking him aside to make him more tolerable. He thought he had been making progress. He thought maybe he was enough.

Julius actually laughed. It was a good thing Peter's gun was well out of his reach.

* * *

_A/N: To be honest I wrote this years ago and totally forgot about it, but I thought I may as well post now. In an ideal world I would continue all of my ff stories right this moment. However, time and motivation are not nearly so kind and I currently have a script I need to write. Perhaps one day I'll update... At least, I one day fully intend to._


End file.
